


"come back to (y)our place with some cheap champagne,"

by zacefronspants (orphan_account)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Kissing, M/M, and i feel slightly bad, hello angst my old friend, just loads of kissing, lots and lots of kissing, there's so much angst, theres just so much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 02:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12571384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/zacefronspants
Summary: Sonny makes a noise, a little, surprised “oh,” as his their lips meet.





	"come back to (y)our place with some cheap champagne,"

**Author's Note:**

> im really sorry if this bad, i have never written for them but i wrote a full fledged fic lmao
> 
> also this is written in different time periods, i didnt say what their ages were so it's open for assuming

**_“when you speak so softly, i am entranced and cannot move, i’ll blink and nod,”_ **

Rafael is staring at Sonny and he’s staring at Kieran and Rafael thinks the world is spilling out of control because he knows that look, it’s the look Olivia gives Noah, and he’s is tugging his tie because it’s too tight and Sonny is whispering to him across the table when his boyfriend stands up and he can’t breathe. He should be listening, he knows that. But it’s muffled and his forehead is slick with small beads of sweat and Rafael doesn’t want this. He tells James this is wrong, he doesn’t want this, and Sonny nearly punches him and maybe he deserved it.

But then Kieran is back and Sonny’s on one knee asking him to move in with him and there’s loud cheers when he says yes and Rafael can’t breathe, he doesn’t even notice that he’s outside until he starts shivering. He calls Matt and begs him to pick him up, and if he’s been sobbing since then it’s for him to know.

 

**_“don’t you see you’re already one foot in the ground,”_ **

Rafael knows his own limits, he knows them, he just chooses to pretend that they’re not there and that he’s invincible. That he’s not full of anxiety and prone to nearly every sickness known to man. So he knows that drinking four beers and doing thirteen shots of straight tequila is a dumbass idea. He’s is also aware of the disappointed looks on Matt’s red stained face and the deep protruding frown on his lips, but he just can’t bring himself to care.

Rafael is vaguely aware of the prickling sensation in the base of his fingers, signalling an anxiety attack because of house much alcohol he’s consumed and he knows that his doctor explained that his anxiety disorder shouldn’t be mixed with alcohol, but he can’t be bothered to listen or even care. And it’s only when Matt whispers, “You’re killing yourself over someone who isn't worth it,” and it makes him boil because he knows Matt’s right. And Rafael maybe hollers that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about at him and earns a stinging ear pull outside where the air is bitter and cold and full of the faint smells of the trashcans in the alleyways.

And if he accidentally pukes all over Matt’s expensive burgundy shoes, then serves him right (he actually apologizes and offers to make him dinner forever). He looks pathetically at the birthday streamers and trampled on cups and plates and says, “You’re probably right, but he’s,” and he doesn’t know what he’s trying to say anymore, so he says, softer than he’s ever done, “He’s sweet summer cherries on your taste bud and all I want to do is kiss him.”

But Matt stands him up and smooths his hair out, handing him a mint and whispering, “Come back inside, dance with me, and then come home with me,” and if he blinks like a deer, then that’s his business and if he agrees, then well, that’s also his business too.

And if he wakes up in the morning, Matt’s naked body next to him on the day after Sonny’s birthday and cries into his chest, then well, it probably didn’t happen in the first place.

 

**_“there’s a dirty bomb in my head, been swimmin’ in this hotel bed for days,”_ **

It’s always an accident, Rafael thinks one night, falling in love with your best friend. It happens so slowly that it’s not even a conscious thought, imagining their lips smashed to yours and their fingers curled around your waist so harshly that your chest constricts in the most delicious of ways.

Rafael knows, somewhere deep in his mind, that it’s a blessing to have been invited to the house warming party, to have been allowed to participate even though he tried to tell him it wasn’t right, wasn’t _what he wanted,_ when in reality it wasn’t what Rafael wanted for him because he’s selfish and petty in some ways. Rafael’s fingers feel greasy and oily and he’s pretty sure the bed he’s been basically living in smells like his cologne and body odor and it’s disgusting. He absolutely fucking knows that it’s gross that he hasn’t showered in days, or has it been weeks, he can’t remember, but he can’t fucking move away from the bed.

And it’s not necessarily his fault, he think it’s Sonny’s’ fault too, but that’s not something he can just put all onto him because doesn’t and won’t ever know how Rafael feels and he likes it that way.

He knows, it’s ingrained on the friendship code, that curling your fingers around your cock and tugging and twisting and stuttering out soft pleas for them to go faster is utterly wrong and probably frowned upon because, that’s his best friend. Rafael knows it when he’s got three of his small fingers buried to the hilt inside him and drool leaking down the side of his mouth as he whispers, “Please, Sonny, harder,” into his pillow, that he’s a terrible best friend. He knows it when he’s boneless and covered in his own come that Sonny wouldn’t be grossed out or disgusted, just a little weirded out because, “Rafael, we’re just friends,” and he knows it when he washes himself and his fingers wander further down from his belly button that he shouldn’t be doing this.

Maybe, Rafael concludes, it’s why he lied and told Sonny, three days before the party, that he needed to be alone for a bit, find himself. Maybe it’s why he ended up in the middle of Canada at a seedy motel with only bags of cheap potato crisps and greasy hot pockets to keep him somewhat fed.

 

**_“we don’t gotta talk about nothing nice,”_ **

Rafael’s running, he shouldn’t be, but he is, Sonny called and he just didn’t like how he was talking and his lungs are burning now, and he can’t really breathe, but if he stops then he’s not sure if Sonny’s going to be okay by himself. But he sees Sonny’s ugly yellow door and he can hear his own labored breathing as he nears and then he’s knocking so loudly he thinks he can hear someone cursing about it.

He’s counting his lucky stars that Sonny Carisi Jr. answers the door looking at him wildly and that the words, “I knew you’d be here.” are leaving his mouth because he’s so fucked, he’d follow Sonny anywhere. Rafael reaches out and pulls him down to his level, crushing Sonny’s face into his neck and murmurs, “His loss,” and he knows quickly it wasn’t the right thing to say but Sonny’s eyes look so sad and vacant and Sonny is curling into him and it’s okay. 

They stand in the doorway, Sonny crying into Rafael’s shirt and Rafael cradling his fingers through his hair until Sonny finally pulls away and says so seriously, “I don’t want to talk about it, but we can talk about that ugly ass purple shirt you have on.” It makes Rafael squeak out a laugh.

Maybe it’s not love yet, but he thinks it’s Sonny in those ratty old sweatpants that are a size or two to big with a giant hole in the crotch.

 

**_“you got to me in a way words can’t describe,”_ **

It happens on accident, Rafael pushing Sonny against the door and leaning in close enough he can smell the coffee on Sonny’s mouth. Rafael isn’t sure who moved first, but he can’t be bothered when Sonny is licking into his mouth and taking everything he can from Rafael, gnashing their teeth together and knocking their noses in desperate attempts to taste the other and briefly, Rafael notes that he can taste sugar on Sonny’s tongue. There’s fingers in his hair and it all feels too much like fantasies he keeps in a box that he only opens when he’s had to much too drink and can’t stop the longing in his chest. But then, Sonny is gasping and moaning into his open mouth and Rafael wants to keep that noise forever, so he grinds his hips against Sonny’s and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

Rafael shouldn’t to do it again, but he tastes so good, so he kisses him. Sonny makes a noise, a little, surprised “oh,” as his their lips meet. And he's pulling him in, asking for more. He gives it to him, trying to tell him everything, everything, with his lips and his hands, but he knows it won't work because it's not something he wants to hear.

When they break apart, he’s a little disheveled and he looks like a piece of art this way. He’s always art, but he loves seeing him with swollen lips and knowing he’d done that. Just for an instance, he looks like a piece of art the way he made him. His eyes are big and wider than usual and he can see the surprise creeping back into them. And Rafael's tired of walking away because he knows it's no use. He's tired of this whole Goddamn thing. So he doesn't fight it, he pulls him to him and he kisses him. He kisses him with everything in him, with all the longing he's done and all the misery at knowing he can't have him. When he breaks away Sonny's left gasping.

Rafael slots their mouths together and licks at Sonny’s tongue, “Come on, we can’t do this here,” is the hushed out response he gets when he pulls away from him and fuck, Rafael has never moved faster to get his things and lock up his office.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @togxpi feel free to talk to me!


End file.
